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think,
” she said, in a mystical
whisper that did not conceal her obvious
annoyance, “that
some
of us” — she stared
very meaningfully at Harry — “might be a
little less
frivolous
had they seen what I have
seen during my crystal gazing last night. As I
sat here, absorbed in my needlework, the urge
to consult the orb overpowered me. I arose, I
settled myself before it, and I gazed into its
crystalline depths … and what do you think I
saw gazing back at me?”
“An ugly old bat in outsize specs?” Ron
muttered under his breath.
Harry fought hard to keep his face straight.
“
Death,
my dears.”
Parvati and Lavender both put their hands
over their mouths, looking horrified.
“Yes,” said Professor Trelawney, nodding
impressively, “it comes, ever closer, it circles
overhead like a vulture, ever lower … ever
lower over the castle. …”
She stared pointedly at Harry, who
yawned very widely and obviously.
“It’d be a bit more impressive if she hadn’t
done it about eighty times before,” Harry said
as they finally regained the fresh air of the
staircase beneath Professor Trelawney’s
room. “But if I’d dropped dead every time
she’s told me I’m going to, I’d be a medical
miracle.”
“You’d be a sort of extra-concentrated
ghost,” said Ron, chortling, as they passed
the Bloody Baron going in the opposite
direction, his wide eyes staring sinisterly. “At
least we didn’t get homework. I hope
Hermione got loads off Professor Vector, I
love not working when she is. …”
But Hermione wasn’t at dinner, nor was
she in the library when they went to look for
her afterward. The only person in there was
Viktor Krum. Ron hovered behind the
bookshelves for a while, watching Krum,
debating in whispers with Harry whether he
should ask for an autograph — but then Ron
realized that six or seven girls were lurking in
the next row of books, debating exactly the
same thing, and he lost his enthusiasm for the
idea.
“Wonder where she’s got to?” Ron said as
he and Harry went back to Gryffindor Tower.
“Dunno … balderdash.”
But the Fat Lady had barely begun to
swing forward when the sound of racing feet
behind them announced Hermione’s arrival.
“Harry!” she panted, skidding to a halt
beside him (the Fat Lady stared down at her,
eyebrows raised). “Harry, you’ve got to come
— you’ve
got
to come, the most amazing
thing’s happened — please —”
She seized Harry’s arm and started to try
to drag him back along the corridor.
“What’s the matter?” Harry said.
“I’ll show you when we get there — oh
come on, quick —”
Harry looked around at Ron; he looked
back at Harry, intrigued.
“Okay,” Harry said, starting off back
down the corridor with Hermione, Ron
hurrying to keep up.
“Oh don’t mind me!” the Fat Lady called
irritably after them. “Don’t apologize for
bothering me! I’ll just hang here, wide open,
until you get back, shall I?”
“Yeah, thanks!” Ron shouted over his
shoulder.
“Hermione, where are we going?” Harry
asked, after she had led them down through
six floors, and started down the marble stair-
case into the entrance hall.
“You’ll see, you’ll see in a minute!” said
Hermione excitedly.
She turned left at the bottom of the
staircase and hurried toward the door through
which Cedric Diggory had gone the night
after the Goblet of Fire had regurgitated his
and Harry’s names. Harry had never been
through here before. He and Ron followed
Hermione down a flight of stone steps, but
instead of ending up in a gloomy
underground passage like the one that led to
Snape’s dungeon, they found themselves in a
broad stone corridor, brightly lit with torches,
and decorated with cheerful paintings that
were mainly of food.
“Oh hang on …” said Harry slowly,
halfway down the corridor. “Wait a minute,
Hermione. …”
“What?” She turned around to look at him,
anticipation all over her face.
“I know what this is about,” said Harry.
He nudged Ron and pointed to the
painting just behind Hermione. It showed a
gigantic silver fruit bowl.
“Hermione!” said Ron, cottoning on.
“You’re trying to rope us into that spew stuff
again!”
“No, no, I’m not!” she said hastily. “And
it’s not
spew,
Ron —”
“Changed the name, have you?” said Ron,
frowning at her. “What are we now, then, the
House-Elf Liberation Front? I’m not barging
into that kitchen and trying to make them
stop work, I’m not doing it —”
“I’m not asking you to!” Hermione said
impatiently. “I came down here just now, to
talk to them all, and I found — oh come
on,
Harry, I want to show you!”
She seized his arm again, pulled him in
front of the picture of the giant fruit bowl,
stretched out her forefinger, and tickled the
huge green pear. It began to squirm,
chuckling, and suddenly turned into a large
green door handle. Hermione seized it, pulled
the door open, and pushed Harry hard in the
back, forcing him inside.
He had one brief glimpse of an enormous,
high-ceilinged room, large as the Great Hall
above it, with mounds of glittering brass pots
and pans heaped around the stone walls, and
a great brick fireplace at the other end, when
something small hurtled toward him from the
middle of the room, squealing, “Harry Potter,
sir!
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